


Pretty Boy

by analog_romeo



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Coming Out, Daddy Kink, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 09:18:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/analog_romeo/pseuds/analog_romeo
Summary: Haruhi gets tired of Tamaki calling him a girl.





	Pretty Boy

**Author's Note:**

> _Headcanon: an idea, belief or aspect of a character’s personality or physicality that is present in a piece of fanwork that does not correspond with information present in the canonical material. Fans and fanfiction authors will often write with these aspects of their headcanon in mind._
> 
> This is actually hilarious. I've never seen so many people this triggered over a fic having a trans headcanon. It's literally in the tags, so you by no means have to read it if you're gonna be a fragile little snowflake.
> 
> That being said, if you're gonna leave a butthurt comment about how much a fic you weren't forced to read hurt your feelings, don't be a pussy and do it on anon, or I'll delete it to spare people the brain cells. 

The sunset was just starting to creep in through the tall windows. He didn’t usually peep, but after the last few days Tamaki was becoming growingly aware that his “fatherly” feelings for their self proclaimed “errand boy” bordered on something a little less fatherly. Truthfully, the only times he ever saw Haruhi without clothes were by accident; seconds of a glimpse, cut short by embarrassment on both ends and a feeling he was still in denial of having.

He didn’t plan on doing anything beyond looking. He didn’t plan on anything at all, actually--both in that situation and in general. That’s just how Tamaki was. He played a role both in and out of the Host Club, the suave, fearless pretty boy with no grasp of reality. Even now, he tried to keep the burning in his gut buried deep, like he always did. Just act on first impulse, don’t think about it. What happens is what happens.

Tamaki cracked the door to the piano room open. Every time Haruhi changed out of his host club uniform, it was in this room, because no one ever went in there. Again, he only knew that because of the time Kasanova walked in on Haruhi changing and saw what really lied underneath the boyish purple uniform.

He’d opened the door just in time to watch Haruhi changing now, just starting to pull off the blazer. He swallowed thickly, feeling something almost like water gathering in the bottom of his lungs, his chest constricting. Trying to breathe away the anxiety, he drew attention to himself, and Haruhi turned to see him. Within seconds Haruhi’s expression went from soft and unaware, like a deer caught in the headlights, to a contorted mixture of appalled and mortified.

“Senpai, what are you doing?! Get the hell out of here!”

Tamaki went red in the face and yelped at being caught, jerking his head the other direction out of impulse. Haruhi turned too, pulling his blazer back over his chest.

The next few seconds they remained in their positions of reflex, an awkward tension growing with the silence between them. Tamaki stood up to leave, but decided against it. A heat rising in his chest, he turned toward the door.

Approaching Haruhi slowly, who’d yet to move from his embarrassed stance, he put his host club character back on. “What’s so wrong with Daddy wanting to see his little girl?”

Haruhi remained turned away from Tamaki, hunched over and tightly pulling his blazer over himself. He stayed rigid. “Don’t call me that, senpai,” he warned, his voice bitter and firm.

“What’s that?” His voice was still warm and golden like honey.

Haruhi didn’t move. “Don’t call me your little girl.”

Tamaki felt like he’d been bitten, but he kept his composure. Trying to be sympathetic, he offered, “does it remind you of your mom?”

“No.”

“Of Ranka?”

“No.”

There was a pause. Mildly losing his composure, Tamaki impatiently asked, “Then what’s the problem?”

Haruhi swallowed, but straightened up and turned. “I’m not a girl.”

Tamaki looked dumbfounded. “Of course you are,”

“No, I’m not!” he snapped.

“Look,” Tamaki began, feeling around for something to say. “I know you have to be a boy for the host club, but you don’t have to be--”

“ _No,_ senpai,” Haruhi groaned. “I’m not ‘pretending to be’ anything, except a girl when I have to be.”

He tried to process what he heard but still came up with nothing to say. “What do you mean?”

“I don't _want_ to be a girl, senpai. Why do you think I cut my hair and started wearing boys’ clothes?”

“But--” Tamaki’s voice wavered. “But you were such a pretty girl.”

Anger flared up in Haruhi’s face. “I don't care what I was like as a girl! That's not who I want to be!”

This was a lot for Tamaki to swallow. “So, you're like your dad,”

“Like Ranka.”

Everything Tamaki came into the room feeling was still there, even with the prospect of Haruhi wanting to be a boy. He thought it was hard to admit to himself before that this father type love and protection he felt towards Haruhi just might be love, or at least lust. But now there was a whole other aspect to come into play.

He thought back to when he first met Haruhi, with no idea in his mind that underneath that ugly sweater was a delicate, female body. How he was so immediately okay with entertaining a gay boy who’d come to the host club. What made this any different?

Tamaki gathered himself and came closer. “Well,” he said, the same temperament still in his voice, “with all due respect, Haruhi, Daddy would still like to see his little boy.”

Flushing pink, Haruhi was now the one with water in his lungs.

The pace of his breathing changed. “You're playing with me.”

“No I’m not.” He came within inches of the boy, who really _was_ a boy after all. “You're still Haruhi, even if you are a boy. And you've still got that pretty face, no matter whether you're a boy or a girl.”

His whole face was pink. He’d never entertained the idea of a relationship with Tamaki, just based on how he talked to him and painted him as a girl. But now he was faced with the reality that the two of them being together really could be possible.

Still in disbelief, he repeated, “You're joking.”

Tamaki came still closer, until there were only inches between them. He looked down into the boy’s wide brown eyes, a lusty smirk in his own. “I’m not.”

He rested his hands on the shoulders of Haruhi's blazer and started to slowly, gently peel it off. Now he could easily see the way Haruhi's chest quickly rose and fell. He put his long hands on the younger boy's chest, able to just barely feel out the shape of breasts underneath. Haruhi moaned. “Senpai,”

There was something delicious about the way his voice sounded. Still almost like a woman's, but not quite. Huskier. With his hands on his chest he could now _feel_ the way his breathing skyrocketed.

“You're so eager for Daddy's touch.”

Haruhi blushed harder.

“Oh, so you do like it when I call myself that?”

He nodded just enough for Tamaki to see it.

“Mm,” he moaned. His breasts tingled, the part of his body he usually resented, now hungered for attention. He had no idea how good it felt for them to be touched--or how much better it was when he was receiving that treatment as a male.

“So, this isn't a thing between boyfriends?”

“No,” Haruhi argued, panicky. “I do want this to be a boyfriend thing.”

Tamaki nodded. “So should I stop with the ‘daddy’ thing?”

Haruhi couldn't believe they were having this conversation in all seriousness. Because of how solidly he perceived Tamaki to be against him living as a boy, he never even thought to imagine the conversations that could be. The conversations they were having _right now._

Intoxicated by the feeling of Tamaki's hands on his breasts, he leaned into him, and whispered, “I like calling you Daddy.”

Tamaki was the one blushing now.

“Can Daddy take your shirt off?”

Haruhi lustfully let his eyes flutter open. Tamaki never once imagined that Haruhi would look at him with bedroom eyes, especially not like this. Not as a boy. But he didn't fight it, because truthfully, he liked it. So much so that the warmth in his chest moved down between his legs and was starting to swell there.

“Only if seeing me without clothes on doesn't take this moment away.” Haruhi went serious again. “I only want to be with you if I’m with you as a boy.”

In response, Tamaki bent down and softly pressed a kiss to the boy's lips. “No matter what's attached to you, it's attached to a boy. And if it's attached to _you,_ I want to see it.”

His breathing husky and starting to shake, Haruhi whispered, “You can take my shirt off, senpai,”

Tamaki peppered a soft kiss to Haruhi's forehead. “Call me Daddy.”

Haruhi whined in the back of his throat. “Take my shirt off, Daddy.”

Hungrily, he did, first undoing the tie at his collar. It was then that Tamaki realized that this was truly what he wanted to see all along. He couldn't imagine Haruhi wanton and sweating and leaning into him without imagining him like this, his boyish hair falling into his pretty face, and his naked body being stripped out of a suit instead of a dress. His breathing went rough and his fingers became clumsy as he haphazardly unbuttoned Haruhi's shirt.

“Yes,” he groaned. The shirt fell to the floor behind him and Haruhi's breasts stood perky and attentive under his bra, his nipples stiff and poking through the soft fabric. There was nothing womanly about the sight. All he saw was Haruhi, desperately horny and at his disposal. “You're such a pretty boy.”

The younger boy bit his lip.

Not really knowing how, Tamaki awkwardly pulled the bra up over Haruhi's head.

He didn't know how badly he’d yearned to see Haruhi topless, not just in glimpses and covered up by his bra and his hands. His tits were so round and his cute pink nipples hard. Only then did Tamaki realize how hard he was.

Impulsively he grasped each breast in his hand and groped. Haruhi moaned deeply, like he’d been wanting this for a long time. He massaged them for a minute or two, watching Haruhi's face go blissful and needy, jerking his chest involuntarily towards his grasp. Just the sight made his cock throb, which he knew Haruhi could very obviously see. He could barely believe this was happening.

The second the idea came to mind, Tamaki dropped to his knees, being as Haruhi was so much shorter than he was. Still fondling one of his breasts, he undid the boy's slacks with his free hand, making him moan needily.

“Good boy,” he praised. 

The attention Haruhi's breasts were getting riled him up so much he was soaking his underwear, which Tamaki was surprised to find were male briefs. He pulled those down too.

Haruhi let himself indulge in the sexual attention he never thought he’d receive from anyone, much less Tamaki-senpai.

“Senpai,” he whimpered.

“Call me Daddy, Haruhi,” he warned, his voice stern and playful.

“Daddyyy,” he whined.

Tamaki never thought he’d see Haruhi like this. “Good boy.” Gently he pressed a kiss to the soft lips between the boy's thighs. Soft and dreamy, but again, nothing womanly. The mere fact that the pussy was Haruhi's made it boyish and cute. He let his jaw go slack and pressed a slow, open-mouth kiss to the pink, needy clit beneath the lips.

Haruhi rolled his head back whined. “Tamaki-senpai,”

To this he pulled back. “What did Daddy say?”

He blushed hard, his face and the rest of his body warm. “Please, Daddy,”

Tamaki smiled. “What a good boy.” He rewarded him by returning his mouth to his soft pussy and flicking his tongue against his clit.

“Tama--Daddy,” he corrected himself, his breathing labored. “I’ve never,” he grew bashful, but still finished, “I’ve never had an orgasm before.”

He didn't respond. Instead he brought the hand that wasn't fondling Haruhi's breast down to his thigh, and kept rolling his tongue.

Haruhi gasped violently. He felt warm all over, the warmth growing between his legs. A soft, sugar sweet warmth that grew more intense by the second. Tamaki's mouth was so warm and soft, he wondered what it'd be like against his own. This thought alone, and the gentle fondling on his breast, made him buck his hips softly.

He wanted to say Tamaki's name but was cut off by the warmth between his legs washing over his whole body. He almost yelped like a puppy, unaware of how he was rolling his hips and practically suffocating Tamaki.

As the waves started to fade away, Haruhi dragged his hips away from Tamaki's mouth, a long string of drool coming away with him. His breathing was still heavy, but calm and slow now. Haruhi swallowed hard and looked down at Tamaki, who was now working at his erection.

His post-orgasm high drifting away, Haruhi dropped down beside the older boy. “So,” he began.

Tamaki looked over at him, a far away, passionate glint in his eyes. Even after having just came, he felt naughty seeing him like this. He felt like a pervert for wanting to take a longer look at what Tamaki was playing with. Awkwardly shifting his gaze back and forth, he finally set his eyes on Tamaki's.

He could sense how awkward Haruhi felt, so he reached out with his free hand and put it over Haruhi's, gently stroking it with his thumb. The younger boy instantly felt calmer. Tamaki then guided this hand to his cock. Haruhi was flustered and surprised at how warm it felt. He and Tamaki kept their eyes locked.

Sheepish about never having done anything like this with anyone before, as Tamaki guided his hand up and down his cock, Haruhi nervously shifted his attention to the wall.

Tamaki took Haruhi's chin in his hand and averted his eyes back to him. “You can look at it,” he reassured, “if you want.”

Without hesitation, and a little too soon, he looked down at his cock. It was much bigger than he expected, and the first dick he’d ever seen in real life, which made his face tint bright red.

Tamaki chuckled. “You're so cute.”

Taken aback by the comment Haruhi squeezed the dick in his hand a little too tightly. Tamaki took the boy's fragile wrist and pulled it away.

Before he could even feel embarrassed, Tamaki reassured, “Nothing personal, cutie. I just wanna cum like you got to.”

Haruhi blushed again. “Do you want me to look away?”

Tamaki laughed again, but not in a mean-spirited way. “Of course not. In fact,” Still jerking himself off, really getting into it, he flipped his hair out of his eyes and lowered his gaze to match the other boy's. “If it's fine by you, I’d like to do it on your face.” A smile gleamed in his eyes.

His eyes widened. “You mean--like--”

He nodded.

Trying to seem cool, Haruhi brushed his bangs out of his face and moved closer to Tamaki's cock.

Tamaki took him by the hair and lifted his face up to see it. He sucked in his breath and started to jerk harder, groaning deep in his throat. “Are you ready?” he asked, somehow still able to be calming even on the brink of orgasm.

He nodded eagerly, his wide, innocent eyes pushing the other man over the edge. He took in a harsh breath, then spurted all over Haruhi's face. It wasn't anything like he expected, but he enjoyed it more than he thought it would.

The blonde boy made a lot more noise after cumming than he did before or during, which Haruhi found surprising, but it turned him on nonetheless.

While they both came down from the high, Haruhi realized that this may not be something that he could relive. He started to pick up where he left off earlier. “So…”

Tamaki looked back at him, satisfied and happiness in his eyes. “Mhm?”

“Uhh…” he rubbed his shoulder nervously. “Is this, are we--what happens next, Tamaki-senpai?”

Pulling up his pants, he came closer to fix up Haruhi’s own clothes. Tamaki, calm as ever, replied, “We should probably tell the rest of the guys you want to be called ‘he’ all the time now. And,”

Both clothed, he sat next to the other boy, leaving no space between. Taking his hand in his, he tenderly kissed his forehead.

“If you wouldn't mind my asking,” he dreamily looked at the setting sun through the windows. “Would you be my boyfriend?”

Haruhi was still in shock. “Are you sure that's what you want? All this time, you said you wanted me to be a girl--”

“That was before I realized how crazy I am about you.” He stole the other boy's gaze. “And love makes you do crazy things. Puts you in crazy situations.”

His face went blank. “You love me?”

He met him at the lips. “No matter what gender you are. I love Haruhi,”

For the first time all night, Haruhi smiled.

* * *

The two of them walked to Haruhi and Ranka’s house, hand in hand. “I’ll just drop you here. I’ll see you at school tomorrow,”

They leaned in close to kiss goodbye.

He brought himself to the shorter boy's ear. “And Haruhi,” he said, his voice deep and low. “You can call me Daddy anytime you want.”


End file.
